Losing My Religion
by Queenie's Broken Heart
Summary: When he discovers the Mirror of Erised, Lorcan Scamander is faced by a truth he would rather forget - something he's sworn never to speak about to anyone, because there is nothing anyone can do to make this better. This truth can only make things worse.


His mother had once told him that mirrors would always tell the truth, whether or not you were looking for it. Gazing into the depths of this particular mirror, Lorcan Scamander realised that this was even truer than he had thought.

Lorcan had stumbled upon the mirror one evening when he had lost his way in the castle. His lapse in navigation did not panic him; he often found himself awakening from reveries in unfamiliar hallways, especially in a castle of such tremendous proportions (not to mention riddled with changing staircases and trick doors). That particular evening he had paused for a moment, a slight frown upon his face, bit his lip and continued to walk, intent on finding a landmark that would lead him back to his Common room.

What he found instead was a forgotten old storeroom, its floor littered with old chairs and cauldrons with their bottoms burnt right through. A thick carpet of dust covered everything.

Utterly incongruous and taking its place centrally, the mirror shone brightly amongst the jumble. It had an intricately crafted gold frame, complete with clawed feet, and seemed to illuminate the space around it in a gentle glow, as though beckoning him forward. Almost unwillingly, Lorcan found himself taking a hesitant step towards it.

Lorcan had never liked mirrors. Perhaps it was the curse of being an identical twin, but more likely the specific curse of being a Scamander twin.

Not one student at Hogwarts differentiated between the two twins, either with their physical appearances or indeed their dispositions. Maybe they couldn't, or simply didn't care, but a slight lanky figure, a gaunt face framed with blonde hair and staring blue eyes simply meant one of those strange Scamanders and that was the end of the matter. The twins may have been pariahs, but most people assumed they were perfectly content with just each other's own company. This was largely true; the twins were best friends and generally inseparable. But Lorcan knew he and his brother had two distinct personalities – they had similar interests, yes – but they were different people. And although most people overlooked this fact, it was almost all right as long as they themselves knew their individuality.

But mirrors changed this. Because looking into a mirror was the only time Lorcan saw what the rest of the school saw: not his own reflection, but Lysander. Everything, from the mournful expression to the stray strands of the honey-blond hair, truly matched those of his brother.

It frightened him. In a mirror, his identity faded away.

But the grand mirror before him … its strangeness was magnified by its unlikely surroundings. Sidestepping an old and broken chandelier, he squinted to read the mirror's inscription, arcing over the eerie glass front. He read it easily, vaguely noting it was written backwards in a somewhat disjointed manner. "I show not your face but your heart's desire".

He frowned once more, considering the concept. His heart's desire? Even though Lorcan had enjoyed a decidedly happy childhood, he couldn't deny the overwhelming loneliness that had recently become a part of his everyday life. It was strange; the dynamics of his childhood hadn't really changed – the twins had always kept to themselves and, since starting school, this was still as true as ever. Yet Lorcan often found himself imagining Lysander and himself as having a few more friends and sharing some laughs instead of their usual grim contemplating. In fact, a few months after entering Hogwarts, Lorcan had begun to feel that he wanted different things than his twin and in the eighteen or so months since then, this uneasiness had only grown. However, he had sworn to himself that he would not say anything – he could not risk anything compromising the strength of their friendship. They were each all the other had, and he refused to allow a barrier to form between them.

But what would the mirror show him? Lorcan scowled; it might only yield another insipid Lysander-like reflection of himself – after all, poets often found matter where there was none and the poet who had inscribed this mirror was presumably rather dim-witted for writing the words backwards.

Sighing, he stepped resolutely in front of the mirror, his intense curiosity over-ruling his better judgement, and glanced briefly at its reflective surface before giving an audible gasp.

A creature sat before him, surrounded by thick Scandinavian forest and curled up peacefully. It had somewhat scaly light green flesh and short legs, with a large head to counter them, supporting a rather rounded body. Two amber eyes blinked at him, glowing big and dark. Some tufts of hair grew around the two swirling horns that emerged above its pointy ears on either side of its head.

It was, unmistakeably, a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Lorcan swallowed with difficulty, reaching a hand out to touch the mirror.

For as long as he could remember, their mother had regaled the twins with stories of the legendary creature. It was, perhaps, the subject that most excited her – her eyes would light up as she gave detailed description and fished out old notebooks with sketches and research. They, in turn, had been obsessed by it and it became a favourite childhood game – discovering the elusive creature – of which they never seemed to grow bored. They had been planning a yearlong visit to Sweden as soon as they left Hogwarts since they were eight.

But since beginning school, since other students had surrounded Lorcan, something within him changed. They were smart, witty and worldly, but most importantly, scathingly dismissive of what the twins would come out with when they spoke of the Snorcack. It seemed that no one outside his family had even heard of these creatures. Scepticism had found it's way into his mind …

It had been creeping toward Lorcan for a long time, and when the realisation finally pounced, it had pinned him to the ground first time. He hadn't got up since. Lorcan had ceased to believe in the Snorcack at all. There was simply no evidence, no sense to its existence.

He knew he couldn't tell his mother. He couldn't bear to see the look in her eyes – the disappointment, the sorrow.

He couldn't ever tell Lysander, who seemed to think it more rational that everyone else was wrong, and they, the 'crazy Scamanders' were right. This was Lysander, who had once admitted he only stayed sane by having his twin's company to rely upon. They were Lorcan-and-Lysander. Those crazy introverted twins. But if he left Lysander as the singularly crazy one, his twin's world would crumble.

No. He was determined to hold on to whatever little he had left unconditionally. 'Unconditionally' was a strange word; in fact, it seemed to be the root of all his recent problems.

Lorcan was stuck between two worlds – one he couldn't accept, and another that wouldn't accept him. And it was getting lonely. On the outside he looked the same as ever; quiet, observant and pensive, but his calm exterior was now a farce.

Inside, he was screaming.

His mother was right; mirrors told the truth. Lorcan had finally seen what he truly desired: not that his brother's viewpoint would change – no, that would just give him the same emptiness that Lorcan himself was experiencing. In fact, Lorcan didn't even want the rest of the world to change.

No, what he wanted was to reverse time and go back to his happy ignorance. Better yet, he wanted his family to prove him wrong, to prove they hadn't been living a lie. He gazed into the mirror sadly, wanting to know that the Snorcack, Nargles and Blibbering Humdinger were out there, biding their time.

In short, Lorcan Scamander wanted the impossible. So he took one last look into the amber eyes of the beast before he turned and exited quietly, blinking back tears, and returned to his brother.

Wearily, he returned to the lie.

* * *

This was written for the 'Those Voices, The Mirror of Erised' challenge, set by PrimroseAmelia. My character was Lorcan Scamander, obviously enough, I hope.

Huge thank you to Katamabob for her generous, invaluable help with the editing :D

I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading, and feel free to review ;)


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